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that lie would be leading his troops to needless slaughter, and did not speak.He repeated the question, and without opening my lips I bowed in answer.In a determined voice Pickett said: “ Sir, I shall lead my division forward.”He then remounted his horse and rode back to his command. I mounted myhorse and rode to a point where I could observe the troops as they marchedforward. Colonel Alexander had set aside a battery of seven guns to advance■with Pickett, but General Pendleton, from whom they were borrowed, recalledthem j ust before the charge was ordered. ColonelAlexander told me of the seven guns which hadbeen removed, and that his ammunition wass o low he could not properly support the charge.
I ordered him to stop Pickett until the ammu-nition could be replenished, and he answered,u There is no ammunition with which to replen-ish.” In the hurry he got together such gunsas he could to move with Pickett.
It has been said that I should have exerciseddiscretion and should not have sent Pickett onhis charge. It has been urged that I had exer-cised discretion on previous occasions. It isHue that at times when I saw a certainty ofsuccess in another direction, I did not followthe orders of my general, but that was when he'cas not near and could not see the situation as it existed. When your chiefis away, you have a right to exercise discretion; but if he sees everythingthat you see, you have no right to disregard his positive and repeated orders.I never exercised discretion after discussing with General Lee the points ofhis orders, and when, after discussion, he had ordered the execution of hispolicy. I had offered my objections to Pickett’s battle and had been over-fed, and I was in the immediate presence of the commanding general whenthe order was given for Pickett to advance. [See p. 355.]
That day at Gettysburg was one of the saddest of my life. I foresaw what
men would meet and would gladly have given up my position rather thans hare in the responsibilities of that day. It was thus I felt when Pickett atthe head of 4900 brave men marched over the crest of Seminary Ridge andbegan his descent of the slope. As he passed me he rode gracefully, with hisjaunty cap raked well over on his right ear and his long auburn locks, nicelyPressed, hanging almost to his shoulders. He seemed rather a holiday soldierthan a general at the head of a column which was about to make one of thegrandest, most desperate assaults recorded in the annals of wars. Armisteada ud Garnett, two of his brigadiers, were veterans of nearly a quarter of a cen-tury’s service. Their minds seemed absorbed in the men behind, and in thebloody work before them. Kemper, the other brigadier, was younger butbad experienced many severe battles. He was leading my old brigade that Ihad drilled on Manassas plains before the first battle on that noted field. TheHoops advanced in well-closed ranks and with elastic step, their faces lighted
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